Sunday Newscape Magazine

This past Saturday, my wife and I visited the Amish. The Amish, for those of you who have never seen Witness, are a troupe of talented actors who are paid by the Pennsylvania Bureau of Tourism and Travel to portray a Norman Rockwell painting.

Performances are held daily for busloads of goofy, gullible tourists who stare wide-eyed as “Amish” (yeah, right) men and women pretend to milk cows, plow fields, and do other farmsy stuff. At the end of the day - when the tourists are busy stuffing their faces with peach pie - the Amish quietly congregate to what appears to be your normal, everyday haystack.

But here’s the rub: the “haystack” (if that’s it’s real name!) is actually covering a long metal pole, which the Amish slide down to arrive at an elaborate underground tunnel system. Once underground, the men take off their fake beards, the woman pull off their bonnets, and the beers start flowing.

“Whaddya think of my new piercing, Vinnie?”
“Dang, Jasmine! Come here and gimme some sugar!”

Ha ha, I’m only joking. Everyone knows the Amish are as real as professional wrestling. No, no, just joking again...of course the Amish are real. And by the way, your refrigerator is running, better go catch it! Okay okay, I'll stop. You see, whether the Amish are silicon or not doesn't really matter. The point is, us non-Amishers have long been fascinated by their lifestyle. It all began way back in the Dark Ages (circa 1950 A.D.) when technology started to creep into all areas of life. Rather than embrace popular items of the time like television and deodorant, the Amish chose to maintain their traditional customs and values.

And while us non-Amish have evolved into a society of computers, cell phones, and butt implants, the Amish have remained wholesome, ethical, and moral. Not to mention, very, very dull.

Hey, I’m kidding! The Amish are PLENTY exciting! In fact, according to Frommer’s Guide to the Amish Country (a fascinating book from the author of Exploitation For Dummies), the Amish country is quite the tourist attraction.

ANNOUNCER: “Rob, you’ve just plunked down seventeen bucks for a Pennsylvania guide book. What’re you gonna do?”

ME: “I’m going to Amish World!”

Amish World, where you find thrill rides like “Mennonite Mountain” and “It’s a Small Farm.” Amish World, where adults wearing giant, cartoon Amish heads roam the streets, posing for pictures and frightening small children. Amish World, where gift shops sell authentically generic black Amish hats with your name embroidered on the back. Yes, Amish World, the “happiest cornfield on Earth!”

So my wife and I left the skyline of Philadelphia behind and drove 90 minutes to Lancaster County, which much to my dismay, looked nothing like an Amish Disney and everything like a John Denver song. There were LOTS of cornfields, plenty of amber waves of grain, and about three jillion cows.

The downtown area was a different story. A bustling area of pretzel shoppes and ice cream shoppes, Lancaster is also home to the world’s largest supply of quilts. Now as someone who possesses a vast knowledge of authentic Amish quilts (read: we walked inside one quilt store), I can say with very little authority that if you’re looking for an authentic Amish quilt, you should ignore the label that reads “made in Taiwan.”

Anyway, things were looking pretty bleak in Amish World until finally something truly authentic happened: a young Amish couple passed by, driving an authentic Amish buggy and, what appeared to be, a real horse. The man sat tall in his seat and smiled while his wife waved regally at the tourists. It was a touching and tender moment, an intimate look at a real-life Amish couple who, upon closer inspection, were both wearing Lance Armstrong bracelets.

Nevertheless, our brief brush with celebrity had us craving more. We stopped by the Authentic Amish Visitor’s Center where a middle-aged, non-Amish woman named Lark welcomed us with a big smile and several dozen brochures about authentic tours of Amish-like farms.

“There’s just a few rules ya gotta know,” Lark said.

Lark proceeded to recite a laundry list of what not to do in Lancaster County, such as: do not stare at the Amish, do not photograph the Amish, do not burp the Amish alphabet, do not moon Amish drivers, and most of all, whatever you do, do not feed the Amish after midnight.

Other no-no’s include asking the Amish questions like “anybody wanna play a drinking game?” and (to the men) “so…why no moustache?”

Lark finished her lecture and led us to a movie theater where we watched a state-of-the-art, surround sound, digitally mastered and homogenized film about the simplicity of Amish life. We spent the afternoon strolling through the authentic Amish streets, eating authentic Amish pretzels and passing by many, many authentic Amish gift shoppes.

After several authentic hours of narrowly avoiding massive (and very real) piles of horse droppings, we drove home, returning to a world where things are real and completely authentic. Okay, gotta go…wrestling’s on.

© 2007 robbloom.com.